From The Beginning: Part one
by CptAbLovegood
Summary: Wolfstar: Remus and Sirius from day one, starts off about 5th book with Sirius but then goes back to the beginning, mainly following Sirius. May be a little slow paced but I intend it to get a bit steamy later.
1. Chapter 1

Part one: tension, love and advice

Sirius was busy when Harry entered number 12 Grimmauld place. Busy with the order as usual – well half the order. Lupin, Dumbledore, Madeye and Snape were already there and Tonks and Kingsley had left Harry to join them, but the Weasleys wouldn't arrive for a few days yet.

Harry was studying the wall tapestry in the living room when Sirius entered, but he did not turn around straight away, but continued to study the curly script that proclaimed his father's name. It was odd to think that his father and godfather had not only been best friends, but had also shared the tiniest amount of blood.

After awhile he turned round and only then did Sirius approach him, enveloping his godchild in a bear like hug, yet Harry sensed that was wrong, if possible Sirius seemed sadder than usual, but he could not place his finger on why or even if sadness was the right emotion that he was detecting. "Come on" said Sirius, stopping Harry's poor attempts at sleuth work. "Let's get some food in you – it's late and I know you're always hungry – those muggles don't feed you enough."

...

Harry's face was a brief picture of surprise as when he entered the kitchen. He was not sure what he had expected: an empty kitchen – he and Sirius would chat and eat, or a kitchen bustling with and full – chaos and chatter with five people sat around the table. What he did not expect however, were the two solitary figures sitting in stiff positions next to each other and an awkward silence. Harry wondered if he was the only one who could tangibly taste the tension – thick like fog in the room. And he wondered for the second time in such a short period what was wrong. If anyone else was aware of the weird atmosphere they chose to ignore it.

Harry ambled over to the table and pulled out the chair opposite Tonks, but was interrupted. "Ah Harry, I'd rather you sit opposite Lupin if you don't mind, you see that's my seat and I also prefer seeing a pretty face when I eat, helps my food to digest." At this Sirius was rewarded with a sly half smile from Tonks which momentarily cleared the tension in the room, much like sun dissipated mist. Harry moved to the next chair without complaint, but as far as he had ever been aware, his godfather had never preferred a seat, instead flitting around from seat to seat when the fancy took and dependant on whom he wished to converse with. It was only at Christmas that he had a set place – at the head of the table, and this was only achieved by copious amounts of demand from all other parties and he never stayed put for the entire meal anyway.

If it had been awkward before then it was positively torture when they started to eat. The food was like soggy cardboard in Harry's mouth and he found he had difficulty swallowing. When he asked questions after people he only got monosyllabic responses that answered him, but left no room for development. Tonks was the only one who replied with any vigour but she was picking up on the tenor of the room and her answers became shorter and drier until Harry and her both gave up on conversation. It was only when Harry enquired about the order that things seemed normal – they would chastise him fondly, telling him that he mustn't worry, that it was none of his business and that he was only a child, yet in his own mind fifth teen was hardly a child, in fact far from. All of which had been programmed into them via Molly Wealey.

The only eventful moment in the entire meal was when Tonks and Lupin's hands brushed when they were passing vegetables. There had been a spark in both their eyes, Lupin being brasher and bolder than usual, to which Tonks shied away, being timid; far from her usual cheeky, bubbly, clumsy self. When this took place Sirius pinked slightly, looked away and started muttering something. He had then promptly left uttering some inaudible excuse and left the room after retrieving a bucket from under the sink.

He had clearly been embarrassed at the moment between the two, but so had Harry and he was only a teenager. He had not been over exaggerated and flounced out of the room. He had stayed put and endure and he was the one being told that he was a child so couldn't know about the order. The injustice of it all! But Harry was not quite used to his godfather's odd moods and so decided to finish his meal.

It had clearly been Sirius. The odd tension that had lingered in the room was dispelled and finally the sun cleared the mist as soon as the escapee had left the room. Tonks was back to the way she had been at the start of the meal: boisterous and entertaining. She even tried out a few different animal ears to make Harry laugh. And Lupin was as normal as usual, laughing along and joining in with the now stellar, flowing conversation, kind as ever.

Harry could not work out whether the problem had been Sirius's entirely or if it had has something to do with Lupin too as he has appeared to be badly affected by the shadow that Sirius had carried in a way that Harry and Tonks had not been. Yet he assumed it must have been pretty tense between the two who had only been reunited a year and a half ago and the one had been convinced that the other was guilty of effectively murdering his best friend. He sure wouldn't like to be in that situation with Ron or Hermione. Harry decided to rid himself of these for the meantime and enjoy the company he was keeping. He would search for his Godfather after the others had left.

...

"Tell Sirius we're sorry that we didn't get to say goodbye," whispered Tonks so as not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black. "and tell him it was good of him to have us for tea, even if he was err... off colour."  
"I will." Replied Harry. "I'll go find him and see if he's feeling better. Bye, see you soon."  
"Bye." Lupin just nodded. They stepped onto the door step and linking arms they vanished in a whirl of colours as they disapperated. Harry closed the door slowly and quickly, and then walked up the stairs; silently thanking no one in particular that Mrs. Black had been kept silent.

Sirius wasn't in the library, drawing room or sitting room. Harry didn't bother looking in Sirius's rooms: either his childhood or new one, but went to a room on the third floor and opened the door. He bowed silently to a pair of large amber eyes which stared at him fiercely for a while, which the bowed in turn. Demeaning this as the hippogriff's approval he entered the room feeling safe now that Buckbeak was no longer scrutinising him.

He entered the room fully and closed the door behind himself. This was one of the many rooms that he knew existed yet had never ventured into. It was exceptionally spacious and a lot larger than the room should be able to contain. Along the right wall a mixture of magically induced vegetation grew, it extend past the corner and obscured the entirely of the first vast window on the back wall. In this corner was a large dark whole which was presumably Buckbeak's den. The room was large enough for the unconventional pet to circle in flight but he could only beat his wings about five times before he had completed the circuit. The middle window on the back wall was a good few meters in both dimensions and Harry could just imagine the animagus would take Buckbeak flying on quiet nights. He could understand why Sirius came here to think a lot: it was oddly soothing.

Sitting on a thin carpet of half crushed vertebrae was the man he was looking for – his only family – playing with a small mammal tail. "Alright?" asked Harry, not really expecting to receive an answer, he stood uninvited next to him. As expected all he got in return was silence, so he decided not to push the matter and changed tact. "Are all the Weasleys coming? I mean obviously Ron is, and Hermione's coming to right?" Sirius looked at Harry, his eyes creasing into an unexpected smile. "Yes. Well, all of them except the older brothers. Hermione and Ginny are going to share a room. You can share with Ron if you want." Harry looked down at his godfather in surprise.  
"Ginny? Ginny's coming?" Harry enquired, if he was being told that he was a child who shouldn't be concerned with the order the surely Ginny was. "Yes, why? You're not still holding a grudge because she hexed you, are you? I hear she's very good at them." He chuckled, patting the bone encrusted floor next to him invitingly.

He used his foot to clear the evidence of dead animals as he thought of how uncomftable it would be to sit on tiny splintered femurs and such like, yet they didn't seem to bother Sirius. "No" he finally answered. "She never actually hexed me; I think it was Fred or George. Ginny would never hex me. It's just, just" he flailed trying to sum up the unfairness of it all, but Sirius interrupted him.  
"You like her don't you? And I don't mean the same way that you like Hermione and Ron. I mean really like her." Sirius accused. This got Harry thinking. "Well of course I like her, but not in that way. Well I don't think so anyway. I mean she used to like me- I even got a singing card in second year." Sirius chuckled. "and I didn't mind, apart from the fact that it was so embarrassing. But she's had tons of boyfriends since. And I like another girl, but, well it's sort of complicated. Plus, she's Ron's Sister. Really?!" Sirius raised an eyebrow, mentally filing away the information to be re-aired at a later date.

"So, who do like then? You can tell me I know all about complicated relationships." Sirius offered knowingly with a slightly wistful smile playing on his lips. Harry blushed a deep pink, not red like a Weasley, nothing could rival a Weasley's blush, especially Ron who turned beet at the drop of a hat. "Cho Chang." Harry muttered hoarsely in a half whisper as if the walls or Buckbeak were listening.  
"Yin Chang's daughter?" Harry shrugged in answer. "Do you love her Harry?" His answer to which was to choke on nothing.  
"I don't know Sirius; I'm bloody fifteen for God's sake!"  
"Okay, don't bite my head off! It's just you'll know. When you're in love I mean. You can get caught three ways. You'll either fall really suddenly and realisation will come on impact with the ground. Or it'll be like ascending a staircase, each step seems insignificant; that as a collective whole amount to a vast height, you're aware that you're taking them but you can't stop climbing. Then there's the most deadly. A small gentle incline where the gradient is unnoticeable, they're an extension of you, like your wand and you're not even aware it's happening. Like watching yourself day by day in the mirror, you always think you look the same until you look back at an old photo and suddenly realise how much you've changed. Either way, you'll know." This caused Harry to chuckle. "You _do _sound like you have a lot of experience to speak from."  
"Yes" replied Sirius "I was quite the womanizer in my time." Harry frowned deeply.  
"But what about you, have you ever been in love?"

His godfather's eyes had gone misty as if staring at something in the very far distance, which was too remote to focus on properly. "Sirius?" but he didn't reply, clearly caught in nostalgic thoughts. Harry decided to call it a night; he was clearly going to get no reply from his godfather who was wrapped in his own memories. Bowing to Buckbeak he left the room and headed for bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Part two: secrets, worries and freedom?

Sirius sat at the end of his bed, on his trunk which was already packed, and glanced around his room. It was devoid of all character, no posters on the walls, no junk on the bedside table, no faded favourite sheets – just a room. In his wardrobe hung a set of Slytherin robes along with matching gloves, scarf and tie, ready to be sent to him after he had been sorted, he had had to convince his mother to not make him pack them from the start. There was even a quidditch set, even though he would not be able to play for another year and there was no guarantee that he would make the team. Sirius had protested profusely from the start and his parents had only though that he was just embarrassed to be so humbled by 'the noble house of Black', but they did not know the truth.

Sirius was far from embarrassed or humbled, in fact quite the opposite, he was ashamed. He hated his family – his parents doted upon his younger brother Regulus and always expected Sirius to be as good, but no matter how hard he tried the boy just didn't fit his family, or more they didn't fit him. They complained about the Ministry when he thought they did a good job of dealing with all things magical. They bad mouthed halfbloods and thought that muggleborns (or mudbloods as they preferred to call them) should be dead, whereas he thought that all wizards were the same and should be treated equally. They put constant pressure on him to be something that he was not – perfect – Regulus. Even the bloody house elf hated him. Originally Sirius had tried to be kind to Kreacher, pitying him for his parents maltreatment and misuse (they thought that all other magical creatures were beneath them). Yet the poor misguided animal almost enjoyed being chastised by Mrs. Black and would not hear a word against her, so turned on Sirius when he expressed his views on his mother.

Sirius was completely isolated apart from the twice yearly pats on the head that he received from his father which only took place when his mother was not about. There were also the occasional moments when Regulus would stand up for him, although they younger boy was often contrary and after a bout of kindness allowed his mother to continue criticising Sirius whilst he bathed in her affection. If Sirius was sure of one thing it was his mother's distain for him for him. In reflection his may have been unfair on his family they were not affection with him as they were with Regulus but they did not treat him harshly. He was cared for, had an allowance and was generally tolerated if he did not try and go up against his mother. In fact their insistence on the quidditch uniform might have been encouragement in his family's eyes. Sometimes Sirius thought that if it wasn't for his mother his relationship with his father and mother would have been very different. Yet he knew that not one of them loved him and he was sure they never would.

Yet Sirius was still his own person despite they lack of opportunity to be an individual under his mothers constant scrutiny. To say that his bedroom was completely barren of character was inaccurate. Stuffed under his mattress liked a collection of muggle newspapers, magazines, flyers and anything else the eleven year old could get his hands on. He loved them. They seemed like quaint normality: photographs that didn't move and text on uniform columns about trivial matters on people of no importance, yet he thrived off them. He collected them on the quiet and read them at night by candle light, adding to the stash whenever he was allowed out of the house unoccupied – therefore seldom. And he loved them so, loved them so because until recently they had been the only things owned which actually said who he was and gave him an identity.

Now however he had more. Clothes. Muggle clothes which he actually liked, not dark heavy robes which always seemed too cumbersome and formal. He had insisted to his mother that he needed muggle clothes, and at first she had had resisted, only caving when Regulus reasoned that all wizards had muggle clothes and that they couldn't very well turn up at the train station with Sirius in robes. Sirius had chosen a cross between casual rocker and skater boy style, which he had seen in his magazines, though admittedly on older teens and young adults. Yet the look suited him. He had also wanted to try something called kohl: people wore it under their eyes and it made them stand out but after some research into the topic he realised that only females wore such things and he would look out of place and in hindsight rather stupid. Plus he didn't want to push the boat out too far with his mother for fear of capsizing.

He was currently wearing a pair of black converse, grey jeans that were tight at the leg but baggy at the bum where the waistband of his underwear was visible. A studded black leather belt was threaded through said jeans. He wore a dark top with a motif or logo of so muggle band, he had no idea who they were, and a navy jacket. He kept smoothing his hair so that it could sit flatter and therefore longer, as his mother constantly made sure that his hair was cut short so that curled, but he preferred it when it was longer as it fell in softer waves. He had tried growing it in secret aiming to cultivate it so that it mimicked Regulus's loose carefree black/brown waves. And true to form his mother had mercilessly cut his hair ignoring his protests. He had looked stupid, like his hair was a cropped afro! That night he had squirmed unable to sleep fearful of the verbal onslaught that Regulus would assault him with in the morning, even though he knew his brother couldn't help it. He had wished that his hair would grow back... and it did! His mother was seething but Sirius didn't care, he had a smug air about himself as he had unintentionally used magic to defy his mother. And it felt like a small victory in his eyes. Yet she had attacked his head since and had not been able to recreate the speeding growth overnight again.

Now he tried teasing his hair out with his fingers; pulling it forwards to try and make it cover his forehead. At least he would be able to grow it at school. He hadn't yet expressed his wishes to his parents, but he did not intend to come home unless he had to. He would stay at school for weekends which they would not find odd as virtually all witches and wizards did. But he would also stay for the holidays and they would only find out when he didn't get off the Hogwarts Express, that was unless Narcissa told them by urgent owl, but he was not likely to check on his annoying cousin and in all honesty Sirius had to admit that his parents weren't likely to care and at least at school he could escape their influence and find an ounce of tranquillity in life.

The combination of his dark brown hair, clothes and general pureblood features were a heady outcome. His high cheekbones and hollow face made him look ever so slightly feminine, but not in a bad way, in a super modelesque imitation. His thin nose and mouth gave him a refined, respectable look, but his eyes really showed his personality. He had the family's eyes; grey, yet dark and endless, they seemed to smoulder with some ferocity. They had great depth and a sadness within and something about the set of his eyes which his other family member seemed to lack, a kind mildness that spoke of kinship and compassion. His eyes alone were enough to make a girl subconsciously fix her hair. This added with his clothes and features meant a result that was somewhat shocking and most definitely striking. A mysterious boy with dark eyes drowning in sorrow, who looked so lonely as well as several years older than his tender age of eleven. Little did he know at this point just how many hearts he would break.

He pulled out his wand. It was perfect. He had never really known what he had wanted from a wand, just what he didn't. He didn't want a wand like Regulus's mahogany black one (of course his younger brother had had a wand before Sirius) it was too dark, imposing almost. And he didn't want a wand like his father's which was gnarled and twisted and generally an odd shape due to the knots in the wood that it had been crafted from. Sirius's parents – well his mother – had denied him a wand when he was younger saying that there was no need, yet had proceeded to take Regulus wand shopping as a reward for something trivial even though he was a year Sirius's junior. This made Sirius wonder if his mother's contempt for him would go as far as being neglectful. Yet she had caved when it had been imperative for his education and it could not be said that the Blacks were a family who did not look after their children.

It was a light grey/brown colour and made of a combination of ash and silver birch. It was 15 inches in length which seemed very long to Sirius at the moment but he knew he would grow into his wand just as one might grow into their features. The core was dragon heartstring which had initially worried Sirius as it was the core mostly easily turned to the darks arts. It was firm but with a small amount of springiness in the last inch making it perfect for transfiguration. It was squarish in shape but it rounded to a blunt point at the tip. Runes were carved on the first seven inches of the wand, a different set for each side. Ollivander had told Sirius that the wand would choose him and it had. Instantly. As he took the wand out of its box there was a silent calm, yet it was heavy, just like the lull before a storm. It felt right. His wand was not simply a piece of wood but an extension of himself. He was like a man who was blind at birth, he had never known what he lacked, but now he had been gifted it he could not imagine life without it. He had gained his sight. And it felt so natural – a part of him – they were in tune, it was part of his identity.

Sirius's wand was his most prized possession.

"Sirius!" someone called. He felt like he was going to be sick. They would only call him if they needed to talk to him or they were ready to leave and neither meant good news. Leaving meant the Hogwarts express, which meant Hogwarts itself and worst of all the sorting hat and Slytherin. He would be in Slytherin there was no doubt, all his family had been in Slytherin right from the first Black, even his seemingly nice cousin Andromeda. He was a pure blood of the notorious house of black, a wealthy family who were the descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself and Phineas Nigellus Black the only Headmaster of Hogwarts to have been from Slytherin. Slytherin. He silently prayed to a god that he didn't believe in, "Any other house". Despite his parents constant reminders of his stupidity he was actually more than clever enough to be in Ravenlaw and certainly brave enough to be in Gryffindor if his constant battles with his mother counted for anything. He wouldn't even mind being in Hufflepuff, the house famous for being infamous. Except that that wasn't technically true, all Hufflepuffs had a kind heart and were good with animals. Sirius wasn't though because they distrusted him, but Hufflepuff was the house least likely to produce a dark witch of wizard so maybe it would suit him just fine. And as long as it meant he didn't have to be in Slytherin anything would be perfect and if it meant befriending a few animals then so be it.

A head poked round the frame of Sirius's door, soft waves slicked back mercilessly with a parting to the side; Sirius wondered why Regulus had changed his hair and was glad for the first time ever that his hair did not resemble his brothers. "Didn't you hear me? It's time to go. Kreacher! Take Sirius's trunk down." After the house elf had disappeared levitating the in front of him Regulus remained. "Well can I help you?" Sirius asked sarcastically. The younger brother glanced at the elder, sizing him up. Although Regulus was a year and a quarter younger than Sirius, he had inherited his family's height earlier on than his brother and was a good half a head taller than his brother. "It's going to be different now isn't it, now you're at school I mean." "I sure hope so" he replied "what do you care anyway?" "Well it's just if you're not here then mother and father-" Sirius let out a stark bark of bitter, humourless laughter. "You selfish git! You're worried that if I'm not here to blame little Regulus won't be seen as such an angel." He said whilst grabbing his brother's cheek between his index finger and thumb as a mock sign of affection. "No! I'm worried that'll get worse." A raised eyebrow from Sirius. "I mean, don't get me wrong I love the attention I get and I feel sorry for you-" "Oh spare me your pity, please!" "No wait I'm not done. I'm worried that they'll suffocate me and that when you come home things will just be worst for you." "Well you've only got a year to wait."

Something about the gravity of the room changed. Regulus was silent regarding his brother and what he had just said whilst Sirius was trying to fathom his brother's lapse in speech, had he said something he wasn't meant to? When Regulus spoke his tone was not accusatory just as if he was reciting some well known fact or other. "You're not coming back are you? I mean you'll only come back at summer when you have to." What was the point in denying it although they shared do few similarities and did not get on well Regulus still knew him more than anyone else. Sirius nodded not breaking eye contact. "Don't worry I won't tell them, well I will but only on the day you're due back. I mean they can't order you home and it might mean you get a howler at Christmas but..." he stepped forward suddenly clinching his brother in an awkward hug. It would have looked endearing if the older brother had been the taller of the two, but he wasn't and stood there impassive arms locked and bent at the elbow. The hug lasted a nanosecond and was almost as quickly forgotten. "See you next summer then." Regulus grinned. Sirius followed at an unsuspecting pace, he didn't bother with a last glance back at his even though he wouldn't see it for 10 months. This was a bookmark. A new chapter in his life which, hopefully led to a brighter future.


End file.
